


Witch - Kinktober 2019 Entry

by a_dangerous_sociopath



Series: Storm Warning [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Kidnapping, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Poisoning, general fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dangerous_sociopath/pseuds/a_dangerous_sociopath
Summary: Kidnapping or learning experience? Mark and Damien can't seem to agree on that one.Also, deadly nightshade? Surprisingly tasty.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Storm Warning [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1304717
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Witch - Kinktober 2019 Entry

**Author's Note:**

> This one takes place between [Hurricane Year](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118814/chapters/42834728) and [Phantom Divine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725247/chapters/46683307). I'm not going to say anymore that you don't have to read those if you don't want... at this point, you probably ought to, lmao. You're not going to know who any of these characters are, or what their relationship to Mark is... I'm well aware that I have written a fucking novel here. But I mean. I'm having fun with it. And when it all comes down to it, isn't that what really matters? :'D

Mark wasn’t sure what had just happened. One second he was standing in his living room, debating a new project with his friend when Damien suddenly appeared in between them. It had happened so suddenly that he’d jumped back, taking Jenn with him to try and protect the little girl. Then, just as quickly, Damien plucked Jenn out of his arms, deposited her into Ethan’s, and then he  _ snapped  _ his fingers. The world around him fell away, and the sensation of falling took over. 

He was trapped in darkness for a while, until he felt someone tapping very insistently at his cheek. His reaction to that was to bat them away, annoyed. He was suddenly so tired and he couldn't explain it. Exhausted in a way that hit him deep, down to his bones. But instead of pushing whoever it was back, they only became more obnoxious. Mark whined a little, trying to knock that insistent hand away, only for that hand to pull back. Instead of merely poking him this time, it slapped him hard across the face, sending his opposite cheek into the concrete under him. 

"Ah!" 

He placed his hands against his stinging cheeks and tried to open his eyes. It took him a bit to focus on the figure hunched over him, with their back to the sun he could really only make out their silhouette, and with his ears still ringing from the slap, their words seemed very distant. But after a few moments of letting his eyes and ears adjust, he eventually saw Damien, hovering over him, kneeling beside him. 

"Damien?" Mark asked, still rubbing his sore cheeks. "What's going on?"

Damien, for his part, was looking rather unruffled right about then. Mark didn't like that at all. 

"Well, dear boy, I'm afraid I've had to take you as a hostage." Damien informed him, as he took Mark's arm, and rather gently, helped haul him to his feet. "Hope you don't mind." 

"Um. I mind." Mark admitted, as the world kind of spun around him, as he was set upon his unsteady feet. Hostage? Why? After spending a year with Damien, he'd sort of learned to trust him. Why would he kidnap him? (Again?) And that wasn’t the worst of it. He’d gone and done this in front of Ethan.  _ Ethan _ . Who was now going to wonder about what he just saw and Mark wasn’t entirely sure he could answer him. This was going to be a nightmare. "Damien, I… I have a lot I need to do. And not just for my job, I left Jenn alone. With  _ Ethan _ ."

"Jennifer is fine." Damien assured him. "I have sent my apprentice to be in charge of her while we play this game."

"What game?" Mark demanded, tone bordering on frantic. Not about Jenn, because if Virgil was caring for her, he knew she'd be fine. But it was a little disorienting, waking up like this, in a… Mark finally took in his surroundings. They were in a garden, a very large garden, with various types of trees, bushes, and ornate looking flowers. Under normal circumstances, he would have found it lovely, maybe even a little calming, but not after having the man abruptly teleport him there without explanation. Putting that aside, Ethan was going to have a lot of questions about what the hell happened, and frankly Mark wasn’t sure how to explain: ‘a wizard kidnapped me but he’s friends with my husband so it’s fine.’

"Game… well, more of a teachable moment, I suppose, for a very uppity godling who thinks it’s funny to insult an all powerful wizard." Damien said.

Mark sighed. "What did Milo do?" He asked.

Damien made a bit of a face, almost like he didn’t want to admit to what had set him off. But seeing the look Mark was giving him, he finally relented. "He called me an 'old witch.'"

Mark blinked at him. "Is that all?" He asked.

"Isn't that enough?" Damien scoffed a little. 

"I just-" Mark shook his head, trying to wrap his head around this seemingly petty excuse for abducting him in broad daylight. "To rip me away from my family, my friends, my job…" 

"Look here." Damien said, snapping his fingers at him, like he was trying to get the attention of a toddler. "Milo is far older than I. On the order of 10000 years." He said. "At least. And further." He added, wagging his index finger in Mark’s face. “I will not allow this insult to stand. I have plied my trade for far too long, worked too hard to earn the respect that I have-”

Mark was speechless. "But why punish me?" 

"I'm not punishing you." Damien said quickly, looking as if taken aback. "I'm making this into a teachable moment for you, too." 

He reached out, taking Mark by the wrist and tugging him along on the path, deeper into the garden. “Come on, this will be good for you too, as it was for Virgil.” He said, and Mark had to move quickly to keep up. 

"Take a good look around." Damien instructed, as he led him further into the slowly thickening foliage. "Perhaps you can tell me what's special about this place."

"Um. I don't know." Mark said, glancing around. It looked like any average, ordinary garden that he could tell. There were brightly colored plants, lacy white flowers, and fruit hanging from trees that carried various colors. There were dark greens, bright oranges and deep reds. He couldn’t really place any of them, but it all smelled very pleasant. The plants bordered a concrete path that looked like it was overdo a good refurbishing, just from the amount of cracks that had sprung up. It made everything feel overgrown, in a whimsical sort of way. He half-expected to see a little blonde girl chasing a white rabbit out of the bushes here. 

“This is one of my personal gardens.” Damien told him, tugging Mark forward to examine one of the shrubs. It came up to about waist height on Mark, and was covered in sweetly scented purple flowers with a few, scattered purple berries. “I have a few dotted here and there across the globe. I like to grow different types of plants for my various concoctions, and I plant them based on climate and location.” 

Mark frowned, as he reached out to pluck one of the berries off of the bush in front of him, raising it up to examine better in the sunlight. It was a dark, purplish black color, but it very closely resembled a blueberry. Damien chuckled beside him. “I really wouldn’t.” 

“Why? What is it?” Mark asked. 

“Atropa belladonna.” Damien informed him. “Deadly nightshade.”

“Shit. Fuck.” Mark squeaked out, dropping the berry like it was poison, which actually, it completely was. “Why in the fuck are you growing a poisonous fruit?” 

“Obviously, because I need it.” Damien told Mark. “This entire garden is populated by poisonous flora.” 

“You fucking… you psychopath.” Mark said. “Why would you…” he paused, when Damien gave him a look. “Know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know the answer to that.” Mark glanced down to his hand, seeing some of the juice from the berry had stained his finger.

“If you find it comforting, you should know that the plants that I grow here are not done so with entirely nefarious purposes.” Damien told him. He moved to the side, brushing a hand along a yellow flower that appeared to be hanging upside down. “The brugmansia here, for instance. When ingested it produces vivid, wild but often quite pleasurable hallucinations. Ladies of the Victorian era used it as an aphrodisiac.” Damien said, giving Mark a rather lecherous grin. “Of course in large doses it can kill you, but what a way to go.” he said.

“Damien I’m not so sure these are things I want to learn about you. Your hobbies...” Mark said, as Damien tugged him along.

“Oh, come on, this is the sort of knowledge you can’t pay for. What if the apocalypse were to strike, commercial products become unavailable, and you need to find a natural way to spice up your love life without dying? I have the answer to that. Careful where you step, some of these plants emit toxic fumes, and even accidentally brushing up against them can cause a fatal reaction.” Damien said, far too cheerfully for Mark’s tastes. 

“Right.” Mark said, as Damien led him along a footpath that took them close to a small river. It wasn’t terribly wide, and maybe, at most, four feet deep at its center. But considering how all water was at his husband’s command, Mark rightly figured that it wouldn’t be long until… 

Right as he was thinking that, he saw a hand jut up from it’s center. Damien hummed playfully as Milo crawled up onto the banks, tugging Mark close and pulling him into a choke-hold, with his forearm braced against Mark’s neck. It was around that point that Mark finally began to feel nervous, because although he still trusted that Damien wouldn’t hurt him, this was not behavior he expected out of the man. 

“What… the fuck…” Milo panted, as he slowly brought himself to his feet.

“I liked you better kneeling before me, I should demand it of you again.” Damien said airily, tightening his hold around Mark’s neck. He wasn’t quite choking him; Mark could still breathe, but the threat was definitely there. 

“Look.” Milo said raising his hands up placatingly. “Mark has nothing to do with this…” 

“You know how this has to end, Milo. You know what I want to hear.” Damien said, as Mark began to try and pry the man’s arm away. It was his gut instinct ordering him to defend himself, though he still didn’t logically believe that Damien would actually do anything. Damien was a good man, though he often found himself at war with that title. Damien protected him and Jenn for a year. There was a reason for that.

Milo gave him a look like he had no idea what Damien meant. “I’m sorry that you’re a sensitive little bitch?” He tried, and the man made an exaggerated shrugging motion with both arms. Mark couldn’t help the eyeroll that escaped him. 

Damien growled at that. He pointed in Milo’s direction, and one of the deadly plants snapped suddenly upwards. Milo was hit with full force with a tree branch, taking it right to the face. Immediately, Milo staggered backwards fell into a coughing fit. 

Mark watched in fear as Milo doubled over. "Milo!" He shouted, desperately trying to pull away from Damien to reach the man, but before he could move a step, Damien had grabbed both of his arms, restraining him. Mark's world was upended entirely and suddenly he and Damien were standing on a distant shoreline, no where near the quaint, quiet garden from before. There, Damien finally released him, allowing Mark to stagger back. His stomach churned violently from their transportation and threatened to make him throw up. He pressed his index and middle fingers into his mouth and bit down, just trying to breathe through it, for a moment. 

Once he was more settled, he straightened up and shot Damien a glare. “What the hell was that?” He demanded. 

Damien shrugged. “He made me mad, so I smacked him with a strychnine tree.” 

“You hit him with  _ strychnine _ ?” Mark demanded. 

“Look, he’s fine, he’s a god remember?” He shrugged indifferently to Mark’s outrage. “I could do much worse and still not hurt him.” 

Mark had a lot he could say about that, but as he opened his mouth to do it, he realized he had a strange, vaguely sweet taste in his mouth. Which was odd, because he didn’t remember eating anything sweet… then he remembered the nightshade berry, and the purple stain it’s juice had left on his fingers…

Which he had just stuck in his mouth.

“Damien…” Mark said, voice low as he realized what he’d just done to himself. 

“Save it.” Damien said, as he glanced out to the ocean, with the waves pounding against the shore. It was normally a very calm, serene sight, but right about then all Mark could think was that it was so loud, threatening to drown out all other thoughts. Then, inexplicably, the ocean began to quickly recede. “I’m about to have bigger problems.” 

“I don’t think I can…” Mark’s balance suddenly tanked. He stumbled forward, dizzy, nearly collapsing into the sand. 

“What do you mean-.” Surprised, Damien reached out and snatched Mark’s arm, tugging him upright, just as a huge wave came barrelling towards them. Damien cursed again and threw up his free arm. Sand from the beach suddenly rose up in front of them, creating a shielding barrier. Waves crashed around them and flooded around their ankles but Damien and Mark were sheltered by his quick spellwork.

Mark grabbed Damien’s arm, getting the man’s attention. “I think I might have poisoned myself.” Mark said quickly. 

Damien’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding-” 

“Mark!” The two of them heard Milo’s voice, frantic and searching, carried in by the waves. The water around them was rising quickly, moving from ankle height to waist far too quickly for either of their comfort. The weight of it was too much and Damien’s sand barrier quickly began to show cracks. Chunks of dirt began to fall from it, turning it from an effective shelter to a hazard very quickly. 

“Milo!” Mark shouted, trying to see his husband in the midst of this chaos. He tried to turn towards the engulfing waves, but again, Damien grabbed him and tugged him in, hard, allowing Mark to collapse against his chest.

“I don’t think so.” Damien said, and they were swept up again by the man’s magic. 

This time when they reappeared, they were standing in the middle of a market that looked suspiciously similar to the one he’d seen while vacationing in Korea. A couple of people who were taking their shops down for the day startled at their sudden appearance, but were quick to recover and go about their business. Mark looked around, despite his nausea from the sudden transport. He could spy no bodies of water anywhere near, so he figured that this time, Damien actually didn’t want to be found by his husband. That was concerning.

“Okay.” Damien said, looking to Mark. “What happened, what did you eat?” he asked. 

“I didn’t just eat some random thing I found in the poison garden!” Mark shouted, indignant. “I got the nightshade berry juice on my fingers, and I forgot…” 

“And you licked them.” Damien rolled his eyes. “Alright. You should be fine, that lick couldn’t possibly have amounted to a fatal dose but the next couple of hours are not gonna be fun for you.” He said, taking Mark’s arm again. Mark was actually beginning to think he could get used to the sensation of being whipped around the world through the aether. The next time they landed, (at another beach; this time Mark actually could recognize it, and he knew it was thankfully closer to home) even Damien was beginning to look winded. 

Milo, on the other hand, was not. He stormed the beach in his other form, all sharp teeth and pointed claws. Damien produced his cane, tugging Mark behind him just as he and Milo crashed into each other. Just for that brief moment, Mark was grateful to have Damien shielding him; because Milo was getting violent and Mark wasn’t entirely sure he could keep up with them because...

Things were getting a little fuzzy. His body was trembling, but there was no obvious reason why. Unable to focus on the fight, Mark glanced around the near-empty beach. There really wasn’t much there, at this time of the day, which sucked, because he was beginning to think a folding chair might have been nice to hang out in, while Damien and Milo sorted out their shit. He was getting tired. Weak. His stomach was beginning to hurt, and that nauseated feeling came back on him hard. Unfortunately, he didn’t see much in the way of options, unless he wanted to plant his ass in the sand, and that didn’t seem like a good idea..

“Damien?” He said softly, unaware if the two men were even still close to him anymore. Damien had used a lot of magic that day, but he was sort of hoping that maybe, just maybe, Damien had enough juice left to get him home, or to a hospital, or something? Mark knew for sure he wasn’t going to make it on his own steam, and the longer he stood out there, the more certain he became that he was about to pass out. He felt his heart and breathing slow. He felt so hot. His body felt beyond his control as he began to droop forwards. Then Damien appeared in front of him, grabbing him by the upper arm and swinging him around. Mark was grateful, for exactly two seconds, thinking at first that the man was there to help him, until he realized that Damien was using him as a shield, and Milo, who was cut up and bleeding, was about to stab him through the gut with his treasured knife.

Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was Milo that finally finished him off. Something about that just made sense.

But the move brought Milo up short, and he jerked himself backwards. Mark could see immediately how quickly that had taken him off his guard, and he watched as Milo angrily threw his knife aside. A litany of curse words escaped him as the man realized what he’d almost just done.

Behind him, Damien was panting, loudly and Mark could tell that he was likely sporting a fair number of cuts and bruises himself.

Milo swallowed, took several calming breaths, and put his hands up in surrender. “Fine.” he said, looking to Damien. “You win.” he said.

Behind him, Damien bristled savagely “That is not-”.

“Damien.” Milo said the man’s name firmly, and his tone brought Damien up short, and he paused, mid-rant, to listen. Milo took a deep breath. “I apologize for calling you a witch.” He said, holding his hands up placatingly. “It was uncalled for, and I know you have a lot of bad memories attached to the word. I didn’t mean to trigger any of them and force you to relive that.” 

Damien was quiet for a moment, but that was totally fine with Mark, who may or may not have been using Damien to keep himself standing upright. Yes, he was letting the man take his full weight, and he did not give one single fuck about it. Then he felt the other man straighten up behind him.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear.” Damien said jauntily, and he lightly pushed Mark forward. Mark managed a step, then another. Then, with a whine, he sank down to his knees, what little strength he had left fading rapidly.

“Oh, I forgot.” Damien said then. Milo rushed forward, sinking into the sand beside Mark. Mark gratefully collapsed into Milo’s arms. 

“What happened?” Milo asked, as he wrapped his arms around Mark. 

“He might have accidentally poisoned himself.” Damien said.

“What?” 

“It’s hot.” Mark whimpered, even as he curled into Milo’s arms.

Milo tugged Mark close. “So you weren’t watching him?” Milo inferred. Which, Mark didn’t much like the implication of, he was an adult after all, and contrary to what his actions sometimes indicate, he was thoroughly capable of caring for himself.

“Hey, I am not thine husband’s keeper.” Damien said. “It wasn’t that big of a dose, he’ll be sick for a while, but he should be fine. You have any activated charcoal?” He asked. 

Milo nodded. “Yeah, we have some. We have a toddler.” he reminded, as he moved to lift Mark into his arms. 

“Give him one of those, let him sleep it off.” Damien instructed, tone flippant. “He’ll be fine.” 

“Um.” Milo said, as he looked Mark over. Mark knew that he probably looked like hell. He was probably wondering if he’d survive the car ride but at this point, he just wanted to go home. He took a fistful of Milo’s shirt and yanked on it, hard.

“Let’s just go.” he whined a little. He thought for a moment that he was sweating really hard on his chin, but when he wiped his mouth he realized he was drooling. That was an attractive look, being so delirious he couldn’t control his various bodily functions. He was staining Milo’s shirt, which was great, just great. He’d hear about that later. Though he supposed, if Milo wanted to bitch, he could always threaten him sensitivity training, which he apparently badly needed, considering this entire exchange.

Milo shifted his hold on Mark, shooting Damien an unamused look. “I’m gonna kick your ass.” He decided.

Damien made a sweeping gesture with his arms. “You can try.” he said, clapping Milo’s shoulder as he too went to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to keep up with my insanity, I have a tumblr that is entirely dedicated to this series [here.](https://wickedwitchwc.tumblr.com)


End file.
